


The Beauty of All Life

by creativityandcoffee



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: I was asked to show the beauty of all life and I am trying to deliver, M/M, Poetry, set in the mosaic timeline, so it's old Mosaic!Quentin writing this piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativityandcoffee/pseuds/creativityandcoffee
Summary: On the day after Eliot's Mosaic-timeline death, Quentin wrote a poem. In it, he tries to encapsulate the beauty they built together over the last 50 years.





	The Beauty of All Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accioAvowal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioAvowal/gifts).



**The Beauty of All Life**

**I**

 

today, I am brought to a halt,

overwhelmed, in utter awe

of how much Beauty, how much Life

I held within my hands;

I will stand here, barely breathing

when I think of all I built,

when I think of just how much

I really had to lose

 

the Beauty of All Life is found

slowly, and piece by piece—

brick by brick, and line by line,

until the Mosaic's complete:

it is the Beauty writ with Love,

the Beauty of what has to end—

the Beauty of a Life in which

you've cast off fear, and don't pretend

 

**II**

 

we built our Beauty where we stood—

we built it there because we could;

we planted it deep in the Earth,

and came to know what it was worth;

we painted Beauty with our hands,

and spread it far across the land;

we made our Beauty late at night,

and whenever our hearts took flight 

 

he gave me Love with kisses sweet,

with honeyed words he would entreat,

with hands that held me, soft and sure,

and made me want for nothing more;

he gave me Love whene'er he'd sing

of me, of us, and everything 

that we had meant, and we would be—

all this is how he did Love me

 

I gave him Love with quiet looks,

with folded pages in my books,

with hugs, and praises that I'd say

in whispers all throughout the day:

I praised his body, praised his mind,

I praised his voice, so fair and fine—

I praised his silver-shining Soul,

and let him know he made me whole

 

**III**

 

the Beauty of All Life is found 

in what's been lost, in what's at stake,

in all the bits of Kindness that

Lovers will learn to give and take;

it's made up of the Aches and Sorrows,

made up of the Fights and Screams,

made up of the peals of Laughter,

and Everything in-between

 

alas, I sensed his fate before

I found his body, yesterday;

I knew his time had come, and that

I, too, would soon be on my way;

I felt some sadness, yes, it's true—

but more so, I felt gentle peace;

I wrapped him up, laid him to rest,

and watched the Sun rise in the east

 

and now I wait for Death to come,

to take me up, on Cosmic Wings,

to bear me Hence, away from Here,

away from all that's lingering:

the Garden where we raised our own,

the House we called ours all these years,

the Mosaic that's now complete,

the Place where we forgot our fears

 

I am ready for what comes next,

for I'm proud of my Legacy:

a Father who cared for his son,

the Husband that I wished to be;

yes, there is nothing that I'd change,

nothing that I'd do differently—

and Death is just a stranger journey,

drifting on another sea

 

**IV**

 

maybe I'll

catch sight of him 

waiting

in Elysium,

holding out

a Peach or Plum,

singing what

he's always sung

 

 _welcome_ _h_ _ome,_

_my dove, my darling!_

_loving you_

_is like a dream;_

_take my hand,_

_and follow me,_

_for there's so much_

_for us to see_


End file.
